The Irate Inspector and the Case of the Blue Box
by FoxFireside
Summary: Chapter 1: When a mysterious blue box materialises in City South Police Station, Inspector Robinson is not amused. Warning for bad language. Chapter 2: A spaceship full of people dressed like they're in the wild west? Trust Phryne and Jack to end up stuck on the good ship 'Firefly'.
1. Chapter 1

The Irate Inspector and the Case of the Blue Box

_A Doctor Who (12)/Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries crossover (!) especially for Firebird9. Don't expect great writing or a fantastic plot – it's just for fun. _

_Rated T+ for excessive Peter Capaldi "The Thick of It"-style swearing and some Jack Harkness-style flirting. I certainly don't expect the Twelfth Doctor to be like this – though it might be amusing._

_There's NO crossover category for Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries and I've no intention of starting one for this fic, so it is posted here - I hope that doesn't annoy anyone._

The afternoon stretched ahead of Inspector Robinson in a haze of paperwork and procedure, so the distraction, when it came, was not entirely unwelcome. A strange, wheezing noise – as if a key were being scraped along a piano wire – and a muffled thud preceded the sound of a strident Scottish voice complaining at high volume.

"What! What the fuck is this? Just once, just fucking _once_, I'd like to land where I bloody well intend to instead of_Clara don't talk to the gaping idiots, you'll encourage them_."

Jack opened his office door to the sight of Collins looking panic-stricken as a grey-haired man strode about the foyer, trailed by a dark-haired young woman whose expression of bemused patience suggested this was a familiar occurrence.

"It's alright," the girl was reassuring Collins as the young Constable tried to stop the grey-haired man from rifling through the files on the desk, "he just gets cranky when he gets us lost. Again."

"Clara, I'm not lost. This…" the man made a face of disgust and paused to wave a hand about as if to indicate the entire city, "place is just in the wrong bloody spot in time and space. This _should_ be 1973. Brisbane. The Rolling Stones! Milton Tennis Courts! Rain and distorted amps and lots and lots of drugs and sex. Not…fucking…1923 Adelaide alá _Homicide_."

"1929 Melbourne. City South Police Station, to be exact. Can I help you?" Jack's voice could have cut glass as he stared down the other man. The blue wooden box that had appeared where the front door should be was steadfastly ignored for the moment.

A man could only deal with one impossible fact at a time.

The grey haired man turned on Jack with an air of superiority. "Depends. Know how to fix a navigation circuit on an early model TARDIS? Nope? Didn't fucking think so _Sonny Jim_, so why don't you just stand there and look pretty, hmm?"

"Doctor! Don't be rude! Honestly, you're worse than the old you. Say hello nicely."

"Clara, I will _not_ be bossed about by y…ow! Fine!"

One hand rubbing his ribs where the girl – Clara – had elbowed him, the grey-haired man offered a surly handshake to Jack. "The Doctor. Apologies for the misplaced landing. My ship seems to be having a bit of a temper tantrum. Should be out of your hair in, oh, an hour or so."

"Detective Inspector Jack Robinson," Jack replied automatically, before his brain caught up with his ears. "Wait, 1974? And what, exactly, is this?" he gestured to the blue box, "and why is it inside my Police Station?"

"_SHE_ is the TARDIS and she doesn't like plodding New Zealand policemen…"

"Australian."

"…Australian policemen pointing at her, thank you very fucking much. Now, who do you have to lick to get a biscuit around here?"

..

"Now, this is not fair! All I said was your crime rate wouldn't be so bad if your police department wasn't staffed by backwards imbeciles and morons.."

"Doctor, you're not helping."

"And I have to say, locking a man into a police cell for that is a bit of an overreaction. Oy! I'm talking to you, you numpty!"

Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes in frustration. "You tried to kick my Constable in the teeth."

"Yes, but he was touching the TARDIS."

"An item which has been entered into Police evidence…at least until we can figure out how to get the damn thing out of the doorway. And you'll be staying in that cell until I decide otherwise." Jack shot back. Honestly, when he'd hoped for a case to take him away from the afternoon's paperwork, he hadn't expected anything quite this…headache inducing.

The grey-haired man – the Doctor – had seemed to delight in going out of his way to insult the Victorian Constabulary, the Federation of Australia and (when Jack had had enough and locked the man in the cell) Jack's ancestry. He was now sitting behind bars, pouting as his lady friend sat on the free side of the cell bars, drinking tea and eating home-made biscuits with clear enjoyment.

The grey haired man seemed to ponder this for a moment, before an unholy light came into his eyes and he rose to press against the bars of the cell.

"If you let me out, I'll make it worth your while," he leered, one hand snagging Jack's cuff and tugging him closer. "I'm a brilliant fuck, just ask Cleopatra."

"Or Elizabeth the First," Clara added idly.

"Or Elizabeth the First, or Oscar Wilde, or that lovely Prime Minister of yours, the one fond of swimming," the Doctor agreed.

Jack tamped down on the flare of unexpected interest in his groin and rescued his shirt cuff from the man's grip.

"I'll add attempting to bribe an officer of the law to the list of charges, shall I?" he said archly as he left for the sanctuary of his office.

"Spoilsport!" echoed the shout from behind him.

..

When Hugh burst into Jack office in a panic ten minutes later to inform him that Miss Fisher had squeezed in through the front door and was now downstairs conversing with the prisoner, Jack swore under his breath and bolted for the cells. The _last_ thing Miss Fisher needed was to spend time with a bad-mouthed Scot claiming to be from the future. Or the past. Or…Jack wasn't entirely sure on that point.

But whoever the madman was, it was a **Bad Idea** for him to meet Miss Fisher. Especially since this particular madman seemed interested in flirting with every person, male or female, he set eyes on.

By the time Jack reached the bottom of the stairs, he could hear Miss Fisher's voice, interspersed with the deeper tones of the prisoner speaking and Phryne laughing.

Hot jealousy curled through him even as he rounded the corner and set finally set eyes on them.

The companion – Clara? – was nowhere to be seen, but Phryne was standing far too close to the cell bars as the Doctor regaled her with some story that was, to judge by Phryne's shining eyes and occasional giggles, extremely amusing.

Jack was not impressed.

"Out, Miss Fisher," he ordered, giving her a firm glare.

"Very bloody bossy for a man with no claim to your affections, isn't he?" the Doctor murmured from where he stood leaning against the inside of the cell bars. Phryne turned a mischievous look on Jack, as if weighing up what she could get away with.

"Now, Miss Fisher," he demanded a little desperately.

"We were just _talking_, Jack. The Doctor was telling me about the future of female emancipation and the sexual revolution of the 1960s. It's all very interesting. I can't wait." Phryne said, her lips turning up into a smile at the pained expression on Jack's face.

"Right, _Doctor_, you've had your allotment of visitors for the day," Jack said, turning to look at the prisoner –

- who was aiming some sort of electrical gizmo (damn it, Collins! _Always_ empty a prisoner's pockets!) at the padlock on the cell door. With a click and a wisp of smoke, the padlock opened and the man stepped imperiously out of the cell.

"I'm bored with this prisoner business. So glad I reconfigured the sonic for simple technology," the man smirked, before turning to Phryne.

"Till next time," he whispered, favouring the back of Phryne's hand with a kiss, before springing at Jack and silencing his shout of protest with a thoroughly passionate kiss on the lips.

Breaking away, the madman winked at Jack before turning for the doorway. "Fuckity-bye!" He shouted, tearing away up the stairs with Jack in hot, if rather flustered, pursuit.

..

"It's not your fault they got away, Jack," Phryne reassured him later that evening as she topped up his tumbler of whiskey. "After all, the man had a box that disappeared into thin air. I doubt anyone could have stopped him from leaving the moment he felt like it."

Jack met Phryne's eyes with a huff of annoyance, unwilling to be soothed.

Phryne decided to change tack. Throwing her head back, she swallowed down the last of her whiskey and moved to sit provocatively on Jack's lap. Startled, he wrapped an arm around her waist to balance her as she leaned close and whispered in his ear:

"Now, Jack, let me tell you a bit more about this 'sexual revolution'…"

_The Stones did play at Milton Tennis Courts in Brisbane, Queensland, in February 1973. According to my dad, the concert had been postponed twice due to rain; the sound was pretty dreadfully distorted; Keith Richards was quite possibly drugged off his head; and the local coppers were less than impressed when Dad and his mate crashed a Harley into a tree on the way home…_

_'Homicide' was a 1964 – 1976 Australian police drama TV series set in – yup – the Homicide squad of the Victorian Police Force. It ran for a whopping 510 episodes. _

_The Prime Minister mentioned is Harold Holt (the 17__th__ Australia Prime Minister, he served from 26 January 1966 to 17 December 1967) who went swimming at Port Phillip Bay one day and disappeared in heavy surf. The body was never found, and the case has become famous for the jokey conspiracy theory/urban myth that the Prime Minister was abducted by a Russian or Chinese submarine. In Australian slang, to "do the Harold Holt" is to 'bolt' or disappear suddenly. _

_Clearly, it is not a submarine but the Doctor who is to blame for the PM's disappearance. _


	2. Chapter 2

The Irate Inspector and the Case of the Ferric Firefly

_A crossover with the television show Firefly (set before the BDM 'Serenity'). It's pretty simple, but I hope you enjoy it._

**_Don't let MFMM go the way of Firefly (cancelled after two seasons)!_**_ Make your views known via the ABC's website/twitter/facebook site and/or by contacting your country's MFMM television channel!_

* * *

The moment they stumbled into the cargo bay of the battered vessel, Jack knew they were in trouble. The sound of weaponry being readied was the same in this bizarre world as it was in the streets of Melbourne – even if the weapons now pointed at Jack and Phryne look nothing like the revolvers and coshes common to St Kilda.

"Well, that's a bit rude," Phryne remarked, calmly surveying the armed people ranged about the walkway above them. Jack shot her a silent glare, hoping she would take the hint that perhaps this wasn't the best time to air grievances. In fact, one could argue that this moment and place – just moments after waking up in a metal vessel full of people dressed like cowboys, after having been struck by a bolt of lightning while chasing a criminal through the stormy streets of Melbourne - was quite possibly the _worst_ time for Phryne to make her usual sort of splash.

Mind you, Jack didn't lower the gun in his hand. Whatever this place was and however he and Phryne got here, he was determined not to be shot by these oddly dressed people if he could help it.

"Easy now," a voice rang out as Jack's finger twitched near the trigger. "I'd hate to be killin' you good folks when we've only just met."

The speaker – a young messy-haired man in a long brown coat – leaned over the railing and grinned disarmingly.

"We don't want any trouble." Jack said, gun still trained on a dangerous-looking man who was staring at Phryne like a dog at its dinner.

"Glad to hear it. Trying to avoid trouble is a hobby of mine. Now…" the younger man grinned again, but his eyes were calculating and clever. "Who are you and how the _hell_ did you get onto my ship?"

)()(

It took a while for explanations to be made by both sides, but eventually Phryne and Jack found themselves seated in a dining area with mugs of steaming not-tea in front of them.

Jack couldn't quite get his head around it, despite the evidence of his own two eyes.

He and Phryne were on a space ship. A vessel sailing through space. A ship crewed by an odd bunch of probable criminals. In the future. Between entire galaxies of inhabited planets.

All thanks, somehow, to a freak lightning strike.

Jack drank some more of his not-tea and pressed his fingers to his forehead as a headache threatened to form.

His developing headache was not helped by the way Phryne had taken to the situation like a duck to water. After a moment's stunned silence, she'd shaken off her concerns and was currently engaged in conversation with a grease-stained young woman who'd been introduced as the ship's mechanic.

"That's an a-grade shiny woman you got yourself there." The ship's captain slid into a seat beside Jack and followed the direction of his gaze.

"She's not, we…thank you," Jack finally answered, giving up on trying to explain the complexities of his relationship with Miss Fisher to the captain of a genuine space ship. Judging by the look on Mal Reynolds' face, Jack wasn't fooling him anyway.

But the young captain was surprisingly good at drawing Jack into conversation. He talked about the crew of the ship and told stories about close calls with enemies and the beauty of the depths of space.

Jack was so engrossed in the conversation that it took him a few minutes to realise that Phryne had left the room.

"Miss Fisher?" Jack all but leapt out of his seat, eyes casting about the room in search of his trouble-prone partner. His worry ratcheted up another notch when he saw that the man 'Jayne', who'd been leering at Phryne since the moment he saw her, was nowhere in sight.

"Don't go panickin'," Mal said from behind Jack. "I reckon I got an idea where your missus might be."

"She's not my wife," Jack replied automatically.

Mal grinned. "That's good, 'cause I think she's a-keepin' Inara company."

Jack relaxed a little. "Oh. The Companion. I once met a man with a blue box who had a friend he referred to as his Companion. It means 'assistant', correct?"

Mal's expression twisted a little in amusement. "Not quite."

)(

Jack and Mal could hear the women's laughter before the door of the shuttle even opened. As the door slid open, the two men were met by the sight of sumptuous silks, jewel-coloured satins and glittering gems cast about the well-decorated space.

And a whole lot of naked dark and pale skin.

"_Gorram_…what the hell you doin', Inara!" Mal's face flamed and he waved his hands about as he half-turned away from the barely-dressed women then spun back towards them as if unable to decide whether or not he wanted to look. "Phryne here ain't no _Jien Huo_ doxy for you to go tartin' up!"

To Phryne's amusement, Jack ignored Mal's embarrassed shouting and instead cast a withering look at Phryne, completely unfazed by the unexpected nudity. "Really, Miss Fisher? We're stuck in a strange world and you decide to have some sort of fashion show?"

Naked down to the waist, Phryne grinned impishly at Jack, a string of jewels swinging between her breasts as she stalked closer to the two men. "Inara was admiring my dress and when she mentioned she had an entire wardrobe of rather delectable clothes...well, I just couldn't help myself."

Jack raised an eyebrow, determinedly not reacting to all the soft, sleek skin on display.

"Perhaps it's time for you to get dressed so we can find a way back home?" Jack said and – _yes_, that was a flicker of his eyelashes as he _finally _gave into temptation and snuck a glance down Phryne's body – crossed his arms over his chest as Phryne and Inara slipped back into their clothes.

Inara caught Jack's eye for a moment and he smiled at the look of amused respect on the woman's face.

Mal finally stopped babbling and blushing long enough to help Phryne and Jack find their way back to the dining room as Inara trailed behind them with a faint smile on her lips.

Fifty-six hours later, with the help of River Tam, Phryne and Jack woke up in a Melbourne gutter and spent the following two days trying to reassure everyone that their mysterious disappearance three days earlier had no sinister basis.

At night, curled up in bed together, Jack and Phryne held whispered discussions about the wonders of the universe. And if Jack occasionally slipped up during a difficult case and let a "_wang ba dan"_ escape his lips…well, it was likely no-one but Phryne noticed.

* * *

_Translations for those unfamiliar with the "New Chinese" used as part of speech in the Firefly world:_

_Gorram_ – "God damn"

_Jien huo_ – "Cheap goods" (a cheap whore)

_Wang ba dan_ – "dirty bastard sons of…"

Doxy – prostitute

Companion – a high class, carefully trained prostitute


End file.
